


Wedding of the Century

by amazingsantiago



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Honeymoon, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 01:36:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14706638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazingsantiago/pseuds/amazingsantiago
Summary: Newly-married Jake and Amy watch the Royal Wedding while on their Parisian Honeymoon.





	Wedding of the Century

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this really impulsively on my phone after watching the Royal Wedding and it’s the most ridiculously fluffy thing *ever*. Sorry if there are any typos but I wanted to get this out before the True Royal Wedding tomorrow night! Hope you enjoy it :)

**11:00 AM. Saturday 19th May. Paris, France.**

“ _Babe_ ,” Amy whispers into his ear, “ _it’s time to wake up_.”

“What for?” Jake replies groggily, still half-asleep.

“The guests are starting to arrive!”

“Huh?”

“The guests!” She repeats excitedly. “Wake up, I want to watch it with you!”

“Watch what, Ames? ‘Is early.”

“The Royal Wedding! You promised last night that you’d watch it with me.”

Ah, yes. Last night. Amy had been straddling him in her new lingerie bought specifically for their Parisian Honeymoon when she suddenly remembered the date and that Harry and Meghan were getting married in the morning. Although he couldn’t be any less interested in watching the “wedding of the century” as Amy had called it, he couldn’t say no to his new bride, especially not when she was wearing a lacy red bra and matching thong. She’d immediately started regaling all the “need to know” information about the event and speculating about what Meghan would be wearing, until he silenced her with a scorching kiss and they both forgot about it for the rest of the night.

Even in her jet-lagged state, Amy’s memory lapse was clearly only temporary as she got out her laptop and loaded up a livestream, turning the volume up to the highest setting.

Jake groans, burying his face in the pillow. “Ames, please. You exhausted me last night.”

A proud smile blossoms on her face, but her attention is quickly drawn back to the screen. “Oprah’s there! Jake, look!”

He murmurs non-committedly, hoping for at least another half hours sleep.

His new wife has other ideas.

“Your first promise as my husband was to love me for better or for worse. Your second promise was to wake up early and watch this with me,” she says seriously, half-watching the stream of fashionable guests arriving at Windsor Castle, not wanting to miss anyone important.

“We only just got here. ‘M jet-lagged.”

“Jacob Santiago Peralta, if you don’t wake up in the next five seconds I am pouring this bottle of water all over you.”

He cracks open one eye.

She raises her brows, reaching for the bottle on her bedside table.

He quickly opens both eyes, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m up, don’t shoot!”

“Good. I made you some coffee if you need it,” she says, nodding to the steaming mug next to him.

“Best wife ever,” he declares, lifting the mug to his lips and taking a well-needed drink of caffeine. They had a long flight yesterday - seven hours twenty-five minutes to be exact - and after they’d arrived Amy had insisted they explore instead of collapsing on the king-sized bed like he’d suggested. They did, eventually, get into bed after several hours of walking around the French capital, but it was a long time before either of them got any shut eye. It was the first night of their Honeymoon after all and neither of them could keep their hands off each other.

“I know,” she smirks, kissing him despite the morning breath and coffee combo. Re-focusing back on the livestream, she sighs dreamily. “Doesn’t it look so beautiful?”

“It’s alright, I guess.” He shrugs, taking another sip of coffee.

“Just _alright_?” She gasps, whipping around to look at him. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I mean, if you ask me it’s all a bit too much. And what’s with all the weirdos in flags and glasses and ridiculous head gear?”

“They’re not _weirdos_ , they’re _well-wishers_ ,” she emphasises. “They’re patriotic, and happy for their Prince, and want to be there for a historic moment.”

“They don’t even know them. It’s weird!”

Amy rolls her eyes. “I would have quite liked to be there, if it wasn’t our Honeymoon.”

“Really?” Jake asks, surprised.

“Yeah. I’ve always been fond of the Royal Family and the tradition of it all... and we’ve watched Harry grow up from the young boy walking behind Diana’s coffin to a grown man about to get married. I’d have loved to be there to see it.”

“So you have a thing for Princes, huh, Ames?”

“Hmmm, maybe, or maybe it’s just something about a man in uniform, Detective.” Her eyes rake over his bare chest, her tongue slipping out to wet her lips. Jake practically melts.

Placing her laptop to one side, he rolls on top of her, their lips joining in a moment of heated passion. He begins to trail kisses down her sternum, thoroughly enjoying the noises his new wife is making. Just as he’s about to zero in on one of her breasts, the livestream host announces that the Clooneys and Beckhams have arrived. Excited, Amy lifts her head up to admire two gorgeous couples and accidentally smacks her forehead against Jake’s.

“Ow, Ames! What did you do that for?” He cries, clutching at the throbbing pain.

“Sorry. Sorry! I just wanted to see their dresses! Can we stop? You can do whatever you want to me _after_ the wedding’s done, OK?”

“Fine,” he agrees reluctantly, gently kissing her on the spot where they banged heads and rolling off her. Amy grabs his arm before he can shift back to his side of the bed.

“Cuddle with me.”

“Of course,” he agrees, with no reluctance at all this time. He loves cuddling her.

Over the next half hour they watch as the rest of the guests arrive, Jake making Amy laugh with his total confusion about the “head thingies” that most women were wearing.

“They’re called fascinators,” Amy informs him, bemused.

“Whatever they’re called, they’re insane. Nobody wore them at our wedding.”

“Yeah, well, our wedding was outside a police precinct and most people were in jeans and casual clothes, let alone fascinators. Besides, it’s a very English tradition. The bigger and fancier, the better.”

“I guess this is a bit more extravagant than our wedding.” He pauses, suddenly nervous. “Amy, were you disappointed about how lowkey our wedding was?”

“What? No! I loved our wedding. It was the best day of my life,” she says firmly.

“Mine too but... we were supposed to have it at a gorgeous mansion, and then we had to settle for the rec center and you made it look incredible, but we didn’t even get that...”

She places her hand on his chest. “Jake, I told you: I would marry you in a dumpster. Our wedding was perfect because I became your wife. Sure, it wasn’t what we planned but I don’t care. I never needed an over-the-top castle wedding like this,” she gestures to the shots of Windsor Castle on the laptop, “I just needed to marry you.”

“Ditto,” he says eventually, a little choked up as he rubs his finger over the silver band that sits proudly next to engagement ring he slid onto her finger all those months ago.

“And, hey, did you realise we got married in the place you told me you liked me for the very first time? That’s pretty romantic, babe.”

“You’re right,” he admits.

“Always am.”

He laughs - hard - the corner of his eyes creasing in that adorable way Amy loves and she can’t help but join in.

“Ooh, Ames, the Queen’s arrived!” He says a few moments later, injecting the appropriate amount of enthusiasm into his voice. “That outfit is... wow... sure something.”

Amy giggles, lightly swatting at his chest. “I think she pulls it off. She looks incredible for her age.”

“I bet you’ll look better.”

“Meghan’s going to be getting out any second now!” She shushes him despite her heart somersaulting in her chest at his sweet words.

Amy watches, entranced, as the camera follows the wedding car, squealing at the small glances of the future Princess. Jake just watches Amy, unable to stop himself thinking about how she’d looked at their wedding just four days earlier.

“She’s got nothing on you and your dress, babe,” he tells her as Meghan gets out the car, revealing her romantic white gown to the world.

“Stop being so cute!” Amy hisses. “It’s distracting me.”

He grins, keeping quiet as Meghan walks down the aisle and the ceremony begins.

It’s very different to theirs.

For one, Harry and Meghan’s wedding is actually indoors, in a beautiful chapel, surrounded by their family and friends. Jake and Amy’s had been a rushed affair on the street outside their workplace, their friends cobbling together some fairy lights to make the Brooklyn street look as pretty as, well, a street in Brooklyn can look.

Another difference is that Jake and Amy’s wedding had been officiated by Holt and they’d both come up with their own vows. Despite Charles and Terry’s attempts to get Jake to change his vows to something more... sentimental, Amy had loved his Addams Family Rap and begged to hear it numerous times in the days since.

Amy grabs his hand as the couple onscreen exchange their much more traditional vows and he can see moisture welling in her eyes. He squeezes her hand tightly, whispering, “ _I’m Gomez, you’re Morticia, I feel so happy when I’m with ya_.”

“I love you so much,” she tearfully replies, her eyes leaving the Royal Wedding for the first time to bury her face in Jake’s neck.

“I love you more, Sergeant Santiago Peralta.”

“Hey - it’s Mrs Peralta when it’s just the two of us,” she says softly.

“OK, _Mrs Peralta_ ,” Jake responds, looking at her like she hung the sun, moon and stars, “so now the wedding of the century is almost over, what did you think?”

“Babe, the wedding of the century ended on Tuesday and it was friggin’ awesome.”


End file.
